Little Red Ryding Hood
by Mango-sama
Summary: There's a strange rumor going around about Red Hood...having a sidekick of all things? Is there any truth to this rumor? Or is it just someone's idea of a (very bad) joke?
1. Alley

First multi-chapter story (gah, I'm so nervous, hopefully Jason's in character...for the most part I'm just making him drink, swear a lot and shoot people...basically a terrible influence no matter how you look at it).

The thing that convinced me to actually start posting this story (in addition to SUMMER VACATION) is the fact I'll be keeping the chapters fairly short, so, theoretically, I'll finish them quicker and can keep to an update schedule of some sort (...hopefully...that's the plan anyway. I'll try updating once a week, but no promises).

**Disclaimer:** (applies to all chapters of this story) I do not own or make any money from this story. Batman and all things related are copyrighted and/or trademarked by DC Comics and/or affiliates.

* * *

Red Hood was in a bad mood.

'Why?' you ask?

He had been taken by surprise on a routine drug bust and had needed saving.

He would have been just fine on his own after taking some time to think up a halfway decent plan, but noooo, Daddy Bats just had to show up right then and _rescue_ him (like some damn damsel in distress).

He really wanted to shoot someone after that. But of course since the Dark Knight himself was practically breathing over his shoulder there was no opportunity to relieve stress the best way he knew how.

So on his way home when he heard some drunks down a particularly dark alley he couldn't just walk on by. Oh no, as a concerned citizen he had to make sure they were where they were supposed to be...right where he wanted them so he could work off some stress. He probably wouldn't kill them, but they'd sure as hell have a colossal headache in the morning that no mere hangover could give.

"Hahaha~! Lookit here! Gots us a girlie goin' ta Grandma's house, wearing red!"

"Guess we should call you 'Little Red Riding Hood' then, huh toots?"

Hard laughter echoed off the walls of the alleyway as Red Hood finally got close enough to see what was happening.

A little girl, probably around ten years old, stood flanked by two much larger men. Eyes downcast, she took a tentative step forward before stepping back to where she was before. She repeated this action again, only to have one of the men fully block her path, his massive form towering over her.

Red Hood had seen enough. A wicked smile, hidden by his helmet, spread across his face at the realization he had a legitimate excuse to kill these would-be kidnappers/child molesters.

Kids were the one thing he and his estranged family could at least attempt to see eye-to-eye on. Though the method of dealing with such scumbags differed drastically.

A shot rang out that seemed to echo off the echo as two bodies dropped to the ground, never to breathe again.

Two guns were smoking, one in each hand, as Red Hood approached the child who hadn't even flinched at the loud noise.

"Go home."

Even though he went out of his way to save kids it didn't mean he was good with dealing with them.

The guns went back in their holsters as the girl finally looked up at him. He could see brown hair peaking out from under the hood of her red sweatshirt. As well as honey colored eyes that seemed to be taking everything in.

He snorted in amusement when he noticed the small suitcase she was holding. A faded and scuffed up pink color with worn out block letters that cheerfully read 'Going to Grandma's House!'

"Little Red Riding Hood huh?"

The girl continued to stare at him before dropping her suitcase. Red Hood was half expecting that; he scared grown men twice his size, of course this small child would be frightened of him. But was (pleasantly?) surprised when, instead of running away, she reached both hands towards his.

She was definitely a strange one.

He allowed her to take hold of his hands as she bowed her head to...sniff them? Red Hood stood still as he observed the strange actions of this even stranger child. She stepped back and lifted her hands toward his head. Did she want him to pick her up? Carry her home? Little brat, he wasn't a taxi service.

He decided to kneel down to her level instead, just to see what she would do. She touched the sides of his helmet where his cheeks would be and leaned in really close, smooshing her face against the glass.

Even though there was no way for her to see them, she looked directly into his eyes.

After a moment of just staring she pulled back a little and smiled, "...safe." She then proceeded to wrap her arms around his neck, laid her head on his shoulder, and fell asleep.

Red Hood was stunned, but quickly snapped out of it, daydreaming down a dark alley wasn't a good idea in his line of work. He grabbed her suitcase off the ground before he stood up and took off in the direction of the nearest hospital.

After explaining what happened in as few words as possible to the nurse, Red Hood was on his way to his nearest, fully stocked, safe house. His good deed for the day complete, he now only wanted to find comfort at the bottom of a bottle and forget about his earlier run in with the Bat.

* * *

So, I'm obviously not the first to notice the similarities to '**Red Hood**' and 'Little **Red** Riding **Hood**' as well as giving Jason a sidekick who uses that name, but I hope you'll stick around and enjoy my twist on this plot bunny.


	2. Coffee

And I give you...chapter two!

* * *

Jason groaned as he shifted on the couch. Clinking from the beer bottles scattered half-hazardly around his legs aggravated his headache and brought back memories from last night he had tried to forget. He struggled to sit up only to freeze as a damp washcloth fell into his eyes.

Now, much more awake and alert, he reached for one of the guns he had shoved down the side of the couch.

"Dickie Bird?"

Nightwing was the only one he could think of that could get into his safe houses without setting off an alarm _and_ pretend to take care of him. All the more if Bruce had told him what had happened last night.

Receiving no answer he allowed his eyes to scan his immediate surroundings, stopping when they fell on a white and green cup sitting within arms reach on the coffee table, empty beer bottles in a perfect line surrounding it.

Sitting up fully, Jason was finally able to spot the intruder on the other side of the coffee table, curled up in a ball, on the floor, sleeping.

"The fuck-?" Jason exclaimed as he recognized the red hoodie of the girl he had saved the night before.

Getting up he made sure she was asleep before checking the rest of the apartment for more intruders. Finding none, he went back to the living room after popping a few aspirin and picked up the foreign cup. Finding it still warm he popped the lid off to look at the coffee inside. He saw and smelled nothing wrong with it and, after a sip, deemed it safe to drink. How this little brat had known he liked black coffee after a hangover was a mystery.

Speaking of the brat, how had she even gotten inside? Hell, how had she known where to find him?!

Jason pulled out a laptop from a hidden wall panel and sat it down on the kitchen table. As it was powering up he turned on his cheap coffee maker and downed the rest of his Starbucks the girl had brought.

Back at his computer he logged in and then signed into the security camera feed. Only going back an hour because the coffee was still fairly warm.

Fast-forwarding through the 'nothing happening' bit he finally saw her approach the front door and hit play so he could watch what had happened in its entirety.

She had walked right up to his door without glancing around. Hell, he was pretty sure she hadn't even looked at the number on the door. She stood as still as a statue for about thirty seconds (Jason took note of the steaming cup of coffee in her hand) and then set her suitcase down, reached for the handle, and swung the door open.

A string of curses left Jason's mouth as he realized he had left the front door unlocked. Of all the stupid, rookie, mistakes-!

He turned his attention back to the screen as the kid made her way towards the bathroom, not even sparing his passed out form a glance.

Coming back a minute later with a wet washcloth on her head she walked to the other side of the coffee table to set her suitcase down. She then went over to him to place the washcloth on his forehead and finally put the fresh coffee on the table.

After that was done the kid started to place his empty beer bottles in that line he had found them in.

He didn't even find her strange behavior strange anymore.

He watched her curl up by her suitcase and fall asleep; he continued to watch until the cameras caught him waking up before shutting down the computer.

By that time his coffee was done. He grabbed the entire pot and a fairly clean mug after shoving one end of a trash bag into his pocket. Placing the pot and mug in the center of the coffee table, Jason preceded to shake the garbage bag open and toss the empty beer bottles in, making sure to grab the few that were still on the couch.

Picking up her suitcase he decided to do a bit of research. This kid was a complete mystery to him, and in his line of work mysteries could get you killed (and he definitely did not want to go through that again).

Checking for booby traps (because honestly, it wouldn't surprise him) he unlatched the clasps and set it down on his lap as he leaned back into the couch with a cup of fresh, although cheap, coffee.

Holding the mug in one hand he used his free one to dig through the suitcase. A few dollars (had some foreign money mixed in too), some odd change, bit of junk food (Jason took a bite from a half eaten chocolate bar before tossing it back in), an empty worn water bottle, and a second red hoodie.

Jason snorted as he took another chug of his coffee, apparently she was really attached to this 'Little Red Riding Hood' phase she was going through.

Would that make him the big bad wolf? Or the huntsman that saved her? Probably a bit of both if he was honest with himself.

Downing the rest of the coffee in his cup he reached for the pot sitting a few feet away for a much needed refill when he spotted something in the small suitcase he had missed before. A small drawstring bag holding some small, hard objects.

Curiosity getting the best of him he set the mug down with a clunk. He wondered what was so important she needed to separate it from the rest of her possessions that were, at best, half-hazardly thrown in the suitcase with no semblance of an order.

Maybe it was stolen diamonds. An emergency fund of some kind. Or stupid rocks for all he knew. The only way to know for sure was to open it.

Shaking the contents of the bag out onto his waiting palm he was, once again, confused.

"Dice?"

Says crazy things, does crazy things, wears crazy things, has crazy things...by Gotham standards this girl is completely normal.


	3. Cheerios

I just had a really bad day that brought an end to a fairly bad week. Just...ugh. I wanna scream and cry and-and...technically it's still Friday so at least I can say this story is still on schedule.

* * *

The TV clicked off as Jason saw Little Red Riding Hood stir and awaken from her slumber (what, was she Sleeping Beauty now too?) Her gaze turned towards him and he began his questioning (he wouldn't 'interrogate' her until she gave him a reason to, after all, he had learned from the best and his own methods were a bit...excessive to be used on a child that had [probably] done nothing wrong).

"What's your name?"

"..."

"What're you doing here?"

"..."

"How'd you get here?"

"..."

"Where are you from?"

"..."

"Where do you live?"

"..."

After having none of his questions answered he finally asked the most important one of all: "You hungry?"

She barely moved her head, and if he wasn't specifically looking for _something_ he would have missed it. But he was looking and he did see, a slight inclination of her head probably representing a nod.

So he headed towards the small kitchen and started looking for something edible, not expecting to find much honestly. The girl followed after him silently, head down looking at the floor, and stopped next to the fridge gazing up at a cabinet.

Jason noticed her and glanced where she was looking. He never used that particular cabinet so it should be empty...but he decided to humor her and he opened it anyway. His actions were rewarded with a brand new box of cereal.

"The fuck-?" he exclaimed as he pulled it down and handed the food to the girl as he snatched the piece of paper taped to the front of the box ('NOT A BOMB' helpfully written in blue sharpie).

Quickly scanning the note he growled under his breath and crumpled it before throwing it in the general direction of the trash (knowing he had completely missed the target and not giving a fuck). He made his way to the fridge, suddenly needing another beer even though the effects of last night's were still hanging over him. Leave it to Nightwing to track down all his safe houses and make sure there was 'edible food' because for some reason his brother didn't think he could 'live off of take out and beer.'

The hell did he know?! Take out=food; beer=drink. People can totally survive off of those two things!

He was jarred from his (violent) train of thought by a ripping noise and a thump. Glancing over to the living room where Little Red Riding Hood had taken the cereal, he saw the girl sitting next to the coffee table, torn plastic bag with the Cheerios scattered across the table and falling to the floor.

She was using both hands to pick up the scattered O's. While her left hand picked up a single O and brought it to her mouth, her right hand picked up a single O and placed it in a line on the table (in much the same manner Jason had found his beer bottles). She continued to do this, lining up the Cheerios while eating them at the same time, as Jason took his cold beer and sat across from her on the couch. He observed her in silence for a while before she stilled her hands and used them both to scoop up a pile of cereal from the torn bag. She stretched her arms out as straight as they would go in Jason's direction, not once looking at him.

The beer bottle hovered before his lips as he observed her actions. Lowering the hand holding the bottle just slightly, he leaned forward and reached his free hand towards the offered cereal.

His one hand was large enough that none of the cereal fell as she took her hands away and went back to eating and sorting as if nothing had happened.

_'Malnourished,'_ his brain supplied. She was small but she shouldn't be that _tiny_. She was a street kid, that was for sure, though how she had managed to avoid both creeps that would kill her and cops that would 'help' her was a mystery.

What the hell was he supposed to do with this bothersome brat? She hadn't said a word since last night and it didn't seem like that would be changing anytime soon. And he had already tried to get rid of her at the hospital, for all the good that accomplished; she had shown up -in his living room!- not ten hours later (and he still had no fucking clue how the hell she had managed that).

Groaning to himself he figured he'd have to keep the kid around until his "big brother" showed up and he could pawn her off on him. Dick had always been a sap for kids, and the annoying man always seemed to find him at least once a month to 'check up on him' or 'spend some quality time with him' were the most commonly used excuses used by the first Boy Wonder.

With his plan finally figured out, Jason settled back into the couch to eat his Cheerios as the child did the same.


	4. Shot

I apologize for missing last week's update. I had some RL things to deal with and then misplaced part of this chapter.

Thank you to everyone who has followed/faved this and for being patient.

* * *

It had been a week since 'Little Red Riding Hood,' or Ryder as Jason started calling her, starting living with him.

Hey, he wasn't gonna keep calling her 'brat' and 'kid' especially in public - too many suspicious women out there would just _love_ to call the cops on him for no good reason (just because he looked tough wearing his leather jacket and combat boots must mean he's bad news...well, he was, but it was rude to stereotype dammit).

On a whim he had left her with an old nun at a woman's shelter just to test his theory that the kid was a human boomerang and could always find her way back to him. One hour and seventeen minutes later (he timed it) and she was standing on his doorstep.

That was the last time he actively tried to ditch her.

They had kept on the move and relocated to a different safe house each night. 'Being paranoid keeps you alive' was a motto Jason lived by. Having a box of fucking cereal turn up at each and every one of his damn safe houses, however, was something he could live without.

"Oi, Red, I'm heading out."

Before he went out on patrols she would normally stay at the table and continue to line up her dice in different orders, never getting tired of the repetition. But this time she got up, grabbed one thing in each hand, and walked over to the kevlar-clad anti-hero (or was he an anti-villain?) She offered him one of the objects she had grabbed and he took it in confusion.

"Aspirin? Ah, hell," his confusion expression morphed into something like distain or annoyance. "How many?"

This particular situation had happened a few times before. At first Red Hood hadn't known what she was doing but, after not accepting them he came back with a persistent ache and a wish he had taken some painkillers before patrol, realized she had somehow known he was going to need them.

The other object Ryder had brought with her was held up for him to see. One of her many dice rested on her palm, the number four side facing upward.

Red Hood popped the cap off the bottle and downed four of the pills in one gulp, mentally preparing himself for a rough night.

He offered the closed bottle back to Ryder who made no move to take it.

"I'll need them later, wonderful," Red Hood says dryly as he stuffs the pill bottle into his belt.

He ruffles her hair as he heads towards the window, "See you tomorrow Red, probably."

She stands there silently, watching as he disappears up the fire escape.

Now that he was gone, she had work to do. She grabbed her suitcase and opened it up. In addition to everything she had originally arrived with, Jason had given her some extra money for emergencies and some new clothes. The clothing was stolen of course, but they were clean and they fit so Ryder wasn't complaining (plus his face had been amusing when he came back with a brand new package of girl's underwear).

She wouldn't give up her red hoodies though. After wearing them both to bed so he couldn't get rid of them while she was sleeping he gave up, deeming it not worth the hassle (even if they were becoming threadbare and he could easily get more for her).

The approximately ten year old made her way to the bathroom and gathered all the supplies she would need and then some. Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze; she even grabbed the Disney Princess Band-Aid box Jason had picked up for her (again, stolen, but Ryder knew everything she needed to know about him that first time they [and their eyes] had met. Everything important, anyway).

He was one of the few 'safe' ones out there. Sure he carried a gun and took the law into his own hands, but he would always be a safe haven when she needed one - she hadn't been able to find too many of those in the world, much less Gotham.

Ryder vaguely wondered how long she would be able to stay with Jason. She had already stayed longer than 90% of her past 'residences' but refused to get her hopes up for a permanent home. Jason was most definitely _not_ the father type.

She would be happy with however long she could stay and would help him in any way she could. Mostly that meant giving him pain killers before any particularly rough patrols but it was slowly escalating.

Red Hood would be shot tonight.

Nothing too serious, a low-caliber bullet to his shoulder that would be slowed considerably by his kevlar. The problem was that it would nick the bone and a small piece would chip off and lodge itself in the nerves of his arm causing irreversible damage if it was not removed immediately.

Jason would not be returning to the safe house she was at. Some misguided notion that children shouldn't have to see blood and bullet wounds. Oh, and the one he'll go to is closer to where he gets shot, so less of a trek for the injured man.

In no time she was packed and ready to go. She waited at the door until the man who stays in the room across the hall got his drunk ass into his apartment before heading out herself (...perhaps Jason was more of a bad influence on her than she thought).

As long as Ryder didn't run into any unforeseen obstacles (and she knew there wouldn't be any as long as she avoided 5th and Sunset) she would arrive at their destination before Jason. This time she wouldn't be lucky enough for the door to be unlocked but that was fine, the vigilante would just let her in when he himself arrived.

The sun had set awhile ago, signaling curfew for children and good men alike.

It took Ryder about an hour to get to the safe house and another two for Red Hood to show up.

He grunted in combined greeting to seeing her and pain of the fresh bullet wound.

He opened the door and growled under his breath, "Get in."

She did as he asked and went over to the table where she opened her suitcase and began taking out the needed items.

Jason joined her shortly, helmet and mask thrown on the floor someplace. "Do you even know what you're doing?" he asked as she approached him with the rubbing alcohol and tweezers in hand.

They stared at each other for several seconds before Jason gave in. "Fine, whatever, just don't make it worse."

* * *

I'm not super happy with the ending, but I wanted to get this up and I've already made you guys wait an extra week so...yeah.


	5. Bullet & Bone

You guys almost got an early update 'cause I was totally convinced yesterday was Friday (this is what I get for working way too much...)

* * *

Ryder began pouring the disinfectant directly onto Jason's wound without warning. This of course caused him to swear up a storm that would have made a sailor blush. Ryder didn't bat an eyelash (Jason was a definitely a bad influence).

The tweezers were disinfected at the same time the wound was and were soon digging out the bullet while Jason tried to distract himself with squeezing the table in front of him to death.

The bullet was found and removed easily enough; now came the tricky part of locating and removing the bone fragment without damaging anything.

She braced herself with her non-dominant hand and slowly weaved the tweezers through the safest path to their goal.

"The hell you doing now? Already got the bullet."

Jason's ineloquent yet accurate words said through clenched teeth expressed doubt and question, but he didn't move a muscle to stop her (the poor table had received a crack from the abuse it was still receiving).

So even though he was, in appearance, doubting her, she knew better (after all, actions spoke louder than words - which is something Ryder seemed to live by since, after all, she didn't talk).

The metal finally found its prize and back tracked the path it had used to go in, safely removing the bone fragment. It and the tweezers were set on the table next to the recently extracted bullet.

A healthy dose of Neosporin was squeezed onto the still bleeding wound, then Ryder wrapped it with gauze at just the perfect firmness to staunch the bleeding but causes no discomfort and minimal restriction.

Jason reached his good arm towards the unfamiliar object as soon as he was sure the wrapping on his arm was secured.

"What in the-? Bone...? ...That motherfucking bastard! I'm gonna find his body, throw him in a Lazarus Pit and kill him again!"

In his anger Jason forgot about his injury and stood up much too quickly. He immediately regretted it and silently cursed his forgetfulness as his mouth ran a string of audible curses to accompany those in his head.

After waiting for the pain in his shoulder to dull to a throb he looked at Ryder. Correction: he looked at where Ryder was _supposed_ to be. A quick (but slow - didn't want to agitate his arm right after the pain had just became bearable again) look around the new safe house placed her in the kitchen.

"Bring me a beer would ya?" he called to her as he dug out the bottle of pain killers out of his belt he had started the night with. He was well over the recommended intake amount but downed two more anyway. Tomorrow he would requisition something stronger but for now he needed to take his mind off the pain enough so he could get some sleep.

But first, a beer.

Hey, if he was dulling his senses might as well dull his mind too, right?

Not that a single beer would do much - he had built up too much of a tolerance over the years.

Ryder came back, beer in one hand, and a box of Fruity Pebbles in the other.

Ever since that first cereal bag got torn beyond recognition the two of them had an agreement - Jason would be the one to open the bags for Ryder so it could be sealed and the rest eaten another day. Stale cereal was fine in a pinch, but most days it just wound up in the trash.

"Ah hell," Jason swore as soon as he saw the cereal box.

Now, Jason wasn't swearing because Nightwing had located yet _another_ one of his hideouts (though, he had to admit, it was getting annoying), or found opening cereal boxes to be mundane (though that was true too). He wasn't even swearing just to swear (contrary to popular belief). No, he was swearing because Fruity Pebbles would probably be a repeat of what happened before with Rice Krispies and Fruit Loops..._combined_.

If he saw Nightwing in the next couple days, shoulder be damned, he would strangle the do-gooder.

Jason grabbed the offered beer after opening the bag of cereal for the child and stood up. "I'm going to bed. You have half an hour for...this," he gestures towards the table where Ryder was already organizing the tiny little pieces by color, "then bed."

One of the many quirks Jason found out Ryder possessed was perfect time. He told her to give him a minute, she'd be back in 60 seconds. He said they were leaving in five minutes, she was out the door after 300 seconds.

So he knew after exactly thirty minutes had passed, she would do as he said and go to bed, even if she didn't acknowledge she had heard him.


	6. Gunshots i

I hated writing this chapter for _reasons_! There was something very specific I was trying to convey and I'm not sure if I accomplished it or not... (even after spending at least three days on one evil paragraph that refused to come out the way I wanted it to in my head).

* * *

The next morning Jason woke up much too early. The one small window in his room faced east and the drapes that had once covered it were half eaten by multiple insects, rodents, and maybe even a person if they had been desperate enough (though why they didn't just ransack the damn place and take the fucking cereal so he wouldn't have to deal with an OCD girl with Fruity Pebbles was inconsiderate on their part).

He turned his head just enough away from the intruding light to get a glimpse of a glass of water and a pill bottle sitting on the nightstand. The half melted cubes of ice indicated Ryder had brought them in not too long ago.

He downed 'em and went to find the kid. Might as well get comfortable in this place; probably need to stay here for a few days at least. That means a beer run, take-out, and finding the nearest cable to hack into so there'd be something to do besides plan out raids on warehouses and make explosives.

Reminder to self: keep brat away from explosive materials or simple pipe bomb could level an entire city block (though that _was_ the main reason he had been able to escape that night without being caught...not that he would thank her or anything; he had the situation _completely_ under control). But _seriously_, what the _hell_ were they teaching kids on the street nowadays?! When he was out there he was lucky he knew how to hot wire a car.

"Oi, brat! Food run, you coming?"

Ryder was sitting at the kitchen table, sorting the Fruity Pebbles by color, then putting all the little pieces in lines. In short, his table looked like a god damn fucking skittles rainbow. Yep, definitely gonna kill Nightwing the next time he saw him. But he still needed to pawn the kid off on him...maybe he would send her with a box of Fruity Pebbles, let him deal with her for a day, and then kill him. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

She made no move from her position and Jason knew she was staying.

"Anything comes up I'm sure you know where all the guns are," because all problems could be solved with a bullet. Such a great role model..._not_. "And stay away from the bombs-I need to know exactly what goes into these ones."

She continues to sort the cereal, going on like she hadn't heard him. Jason knew better: she heard everything (and even if she didn't hear it, somehow, she knew it). Jason had stopped questioning her weird quirks and strange tendencies after that first day. He found he just didn't care. She wasn't a threat, she'd be gone before long, and in the meantime he'd use her and her freaky abilities to his advantage.

He didn't need her, he was just fine before she came into his life and he'd be fine once she left.

Besides, he was better off alone.

* * *

The evening was spent pouring over (stolen) blueprint copies of warehouses probably being used by drug distributors. There were seven likely candidates, but without good old fashion foot work for information and some stakeouts for recon (which would take _weeks_ if he was generous, _months_ if he was realistic) there wasn't much he could do besides find the best entrance points and where they would likely store the important stuff he would need to destroy. Anything beyond that was mere speculation.

All seven blueprints were strewn across the living room floor. Jason had marked a few places on a couple of them but for the most part he was mindlessly watching the images on the TV he had gotten rigged after he got back from his earlier errands.

Ten more minutes of nothing productive and he made supper. And by 'made supper' he threw two microwave dinners into the microwave and nuked 'em. Ryder had eaten anything he had put in front of her so deemed her a non-picky eater and got anything cheap or on sale.

Beer, on the other hand, he allowed himself to splurge on. The cheap stuff was too weak anyways.

While his temporary roommate ate, Jason changed the bandages on his shoulder, ate his own meal, then locked himself in the bedroom. He didn't care what she did the rest of the night, he was going to take some of the vicoden he had liberated from a local drug store and rest like a good little boy to speed up his recovery time (the various antibodies he had also recqusistioned from that drug store wouldn't hurt either).

* * *

Three days had passed since Jason got shot. No sign of infection and Ryder had finally, _finally_, finished off the Fruity Pebbles (did Nightwing know he was a dead man walking? Was that why he hadn't seen his wannabe brother in nearly three weeks?)

They would probably need to move soon, staying in such an exposed safe house, while good for his shoulder, was bad for their overall health. Too many people out to get him, too many different ways that could be accomplished in this particular hell-hole. He had learned to stay on guard and keep moving, and staying here for such a long period of time went against everything he had come to do.

It was late though, he would worry about this in the morning and relocate to his safe house on Central Ave, or maybe the one on Valley Street.

Jason popped the last of his vicoden (time for another trip to a drug store) and tried to sleep. All this going to bed early was a load of bullshit. Thankfully the meds relaxed him enough he could at least rest, not fully asleep yet, but it would come.

But not that night. For the silence of that night was soon shattered by two very loud gunshots.

Two gunshots that had come from somewhere very close by.

Somewhere like the living room.

* * *

Dun dun dun! Finally, a proper cliffhanger! xD


	7. Gunshots ii

My mom has been threatening to turn off our internet. Now, she's done this before and nothing's come of it, but I'd still like to inform you all in case I randomly disappear. Though, honestly, I'm having a bit of writer's block so I might be going on a hiatus that has nothing to do with my internet connection (I'll be sure to add a brief author's note when that does happen, but I'd estimate I'm good for two or three more chapters still).

* * *

Ryder had been left to her own devices for as long as she could remember. She could sit alone in an empty room all day and not get bored. She could be left abandoned in a snowstorm with nothing but the clothes on her back and not be mad.

She just doesn't feel emotions the same way others do. And she can't express them well either. She'll smile occasionally, but it never reaches her eyes. Direct eye contact is avoided whenever possible, and staying with any one person for more than a week is a miracle.

So when Jason holes himself up in his bedroom she just keeps herself busy. Her dice were lined up, then reordered, the TV was a good distraction, and Jason even bought (stole?) her more cereal (plain O's, for some reason he doesn't like it when she had the small multi-colored ones).

She didn't mind being alone, and right now she wasn't, not really, so she kept herself busy and out of the way.

Jason had haphazardly tossed all the warehouse blueprints to the corner of the living room the day before. Now, Ryder grabbed one and folded it up nicely, pressing each crease down so that it would be sure to stay, until it was small enough so that it would fit into her suitcase without getting stuck in the sides as they closed.

The rest of her belongings were soon packed too, all except her bag of dice which had gained a few more cubes since she started tagging along with Jason.

Tonight they would be moving. They had stayed too long at this safe house and bad people would come for them soon. Thankfully Ryder knew this, and also that everything would work out just fine, as long as she stayed sitting on the couch, playing with her dice.

11111111

12121212

12345654321

The soft tapping the dice made as they made contact with her suitcase was the only sound besides that of Gotham's night life. A police siren here, a car alarm there, the sound of a window being pried open and two thugs entering where they really shouldn't - oh, showtime.

"Are you sure this is the place?" a frantic sounding hushed whisper broke the tap-tap-tapping that wasn't registering in the mind of either of them. Not very observant would-be-assassins.

"Yes, now shut up!" a second voice whisper-yelled back at the first. "Do you _want_ the Red Hood to kill us before we even get inside?!"

They both shut up once they finally heard the tapping a certain brunette was making.

"Dude! This can't be Red Hood's place! He doesn't have a fucking kid!" the skittish man who was made to enter first whisper-yelled at his partner.

"Shut up!" the 'boss' hissed back. "My intel is good; this is the place!"

"Then why hasn't she alerted him or something? We've given her plenty of time to do so!"

"How the hell would I know?! Maybe she's mentally retarded or something!"

They continued to bicker back and forth until Ryder stopped playing with her dice and stood up, making sure to stomp her feet loudly on the floor to gain their attention. They shut up immediately and watched her closely.

Shooting her now would give away their position, but perhaps she would lead them to where they wanted to go: directly to Red Hood.

She stepped up to Mr. Skittish first and grabbed the hand that didn't have a gun. She took a whiff, same as she had done with Jason all that time ago, and reached up towards his face.

Understanding crossed his features and knelt down before her. "I think she's got Autism."

"Huh?"

"I grew up down the street from a kid with Autism, she's kinda acting like he did."

"Uh-huh. And why do we care?"

Ryder had finished with Mr. Skittish, not saying a word, and moved on towards Mr. Boss.

"Stop that," he commanded as she took his hand. "Just go back to your couch and we'll deal with you later."

"You'd better let her do her thing."

"Oh really? Why?"

"The kid on my block would always throw a temper tantrum whenever he didn't get his way, it could get really bad. And it would defeat the purpose if she alerted Red Hood now after we've tried so hard to be quiet."

"Fine, whatever." Mr. Boss, reluctantly, mirrored the actions Mr. Skittish had done before and let her look into his eyes.

Again she made no sound, and went back quietly to the couch after she was done.

"...That's it? One look, then -bam- pretends not to see us anymore? What the hell did she even waste our time for then?! Jeez! Back to the mission; c'mon, no more distractions. Stupid fucking kids," he mumbled that last bit under his breath.

As soon as their attention left her to resume searching the rest of the apartment for their intended target, Ryder pulled out one of the small handguns Jason likes to stash between the couch cushions.

She aimed the piece of metal without even looking up and pulled the trigger once.

Then again.

* * *

Haha, I'm so clever (...or maybe just evil? Mwahaha). Ending two chapters with the exact same two gunshots.


	8. Fire

Internet is still connected and my writer's block has subsided a bit (inspiration hit for a random future chapter, so we'll see how long it actually takes me to write whatever happens in between...)

* * *

The shots echoed loudly off the bare walls and that means the neighbors would be waking up and calling the police. Need to finish packing quickly.

Ryder placed the gun next to her on the couch as she gathered her dice up and placed them into their bag before laying them gently in her suitcase.

Jason had come barreling out of the bedroom, his own firearm at the ready, and came up short at the scene before him, trying to understand it.

Two men were sprawled on the floor with bullet wounds in their -Jason snorted in amusement- ass. Their guns were close by but Jason could spare a few seconds to find the culprit.

Ryder was sitting on the couch, like she normally does, packing up her dice. Next to her was the couch-gun and he could figure out what had probably happened from that.

A groan from one of the men on the floor and a jerk of the hand toward his fallen gun from the second indicated they were down, but not out.

Two more shots were fired in that apartment to finish the job. The police had to have been called by now; time to make a quick getaway.

Jason grabbed a duffle bag and threw in anything even remotely valuable. Couch-gun, guns, the Cheerios, his helmet, the two dead moron's guns, guns, his bomb supplies, and Ryder's suitcase.

The few times they've transferred safe houses in a 'normal' manner Jason had allowed Ryder to carry her suitcase and walk next to him. But now that time was of the essence they would have to run. And Ryder didn't run. For anything.

He threw the duffle bag over his shoulder and scooped up the small child in his arms. A single match was lit and dropped on the pile of blueprints that spread to the old wooden floors in moments. The bigger the disaster, the more people would come out to gawk, and the more cover he would have to slip away unnoticed. He even pulled the fire alarm for good measure.

Jason was surprised, but realized he really shouldn't be, when he was able to walk right past the police without being questioned. They took one look at the sleeping girl in his arms and let him pass...wait a minute! The brat was already sleeping?!

Gah! Making him do all the work while she called it a night...ungrateful little twerp!

But even though he moaned and groaned about his 'extra baggage' they both made it safely to the next safe house.

* * *

Jason awoke the next day to muffled sounds coming from the kitchen. An indicator that Ryder was already up and about, but Jason still kept a hand on the hidden weapon he always had on his person as he made his way towards the noise.

The night before he had vaguely noted the lack of a coffee table in the living room and so didn't spare a second glance at the red-clad child sitting on top of the counter. He did, however, take note of the items she had surrounding her on said counter.

She had retrieved her pink suitcase and box of Cheerios from the bag of all-important-stuff and climbed up onto the counter top. In addition to her suitcase and cereal she had her bag of dice out, with the small objects sitting on top of a large piece of paper...that just happened to be blue.

He strolled over to the side of the counter and stood in front of a blueprint he had thought had gone up in smoke. Noticing the multiple folds, that had been absent when he had handled the paper, realized it had made the journey via Ryder's suitcase.

As he looked closer, Jason saw the dice sitting on top of the paper were strategically placed as well as seeming to have some hidden meaning behind the different numbers (because this girl didn't do anything without a reason).

"Oi, what do the numbers mean?" But of course Jason knew asking wouldn't get him an answer so he continued to stare; if he stared long enough, the answer might just come to him.

Giving up about two minutes later he made his way to the fridge to see if there was anything edible there or in the cupboards (it's been two months since he used this place...any of the perishable food would have gone bad by now, but he always tried to throw all that out before he changed places if he was able to).

The fridge held only beer and water and the cupboards were, surprisingly, bare, _'HA! Take that Dickiebird! You haven't tracked down all my safehouses!'_

Jason glanced back over at Ryder when he heard a clink from her direction. A bowl (that was probably hidden inside her suitcase because he hadn't seen her get up to get it and said item was now open [hey, he could act all detective-like when he wanted]) was placed between them, already filled with Cheerios.

He took it with a nod of thanks.

Now he had to plan the stakeout on this warehouse for tonight, as well as a way to be sure everyone knew Red Hood was still around (taking those few days off to rest wasn't really good for his image if the scum of Gotham started getting cocky).

Plus whoever had hired those goons probably assumed they had failed when they didn't check in afterwards. Best to put their assumptions to rest though, and let them know Red Hood was still alive and killing (though kicking was a great stress reliever as well, he had come to rather like the satisfying crunch of broken noses. I was almost...therapeutic).

* * *

That night Red Hood broke into many a known street gang's HQ taking out only a few of the upper management and leaving the rest beaten and bloody. Hey, someone had to be left alive to spread rumors of his return. And if this stunt scared some of the newer recruits straight, all the more reason to do so. This life didn't have its claws in everyone completely yet, if all they needed was a little push from him, he'd be more than willing to give it...in the form of broken bones, bruises, and concussions.

After a satisfactory amount of butt kicking Red Hood finally made his way towards Warehouse 22. Keeping in mind the locations and numbers of Ryder's dice he set up his stakeout operation on the roof of an adjacent warehouse (hoping, somehow, he'd get a clue to what those numbers actually meant).

About an hour in he sensed, more than heard, the uninvited guest that was sneaking up behind him. He made no outward sign of showing he knew the other person was there except a slight movement of his hand as he grabbed a gun, shifted it into a better position, and unlatched the safety.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he rounded on the man, pulling up to his full intimidating 6'2" and pointed the barrel right between the other man's eyes.

* * *

Back at the safehouse Ryder pulled herself away from the cartoon she wasn't really watching and walked over to the blueprint where it was still laid out on the counter. She reached into her bag of dice and pulled one out, not even looking to see if she had grabbed the right one because she knew she had, and placed the blue die next to the red one Jason had missed before as it was several inches away from the edge of the paper.

Ryder then made her way back to the living room where she proceed to fall asleep.

* * *

...and I have no idea how tall Jason is, I just threw out a random number *shrug*


	9. Brothers

Alright, so, I apologize but this will be the last update for a while. I'm not sure how long it will take for me to write the next chapter but I _am_ working on it (it's just going a bit slower than I'd hoped as I figure out how to transition into the next main thing I need to happen, and try not to get distracted too much by other stuff [like the ending {I finally know where this is going!} Or what happens when the other members of the Bat Clan meet Ryder. Or a completely different story the plot bunnies have attacked me with {so...many...ideas...*_*} _ahem_] gonna actually get to the story now...ignore my ramblings...)

* * *

"'Hood."

"'Wing."

Red Hood still had his gun trained on his brother's head and showed no signs of lowering it anytime soon.

Nightwing choose to ignore the deadly piece of metal pointed between his eyes so he could at last pretend to have a normal conversation with his first brother.

Best to start the conversation with _why_ he had been tracking Red Hood. Since it had nothing to do with their father, Jason probably wouldn't go off and start shooting at him with no warning...probably. "Saw that one of your safehouses burned down, you have anything to do with that?"

"Maybe."

When he saw he'd give no more explanation, Nightwing continued, "Well, just making sure you were okay. I've confirmed you're still alive so I'll be on my way."

A mock salute and cheeky grin were given, but just after he turned his back to Red Hood, a clear sound cut through the morning air, stopping the older man before he jumped off the side of the building.

"Oi."

Nightwing blinks at Red Hood, even though his mask hid it. "...Yes?"

Red Hood clearly wanted to talk about something, but his pride sometimes gets in the way of him being able to ask his family for help. But Nightwing is patient, and knows each of his little brothers (and sister) well enough. So he'll just stay quiet and let Jason bring up what he wants to talk about.

"Don't think I don't know about all the fucking cereal you're leaving at all my places."

Nightwing throws a sheepish grin towards his brother but otherwise stays quiet. Jason had started talking, probably not about what he really wanted to talk about but they would get there eventually (...probably).

His silence is rewarded as Red hood continues. "And since I know telling you to stop is like banging my head against a damn brick wall, all I have to say is this: Cheerios. I find any more fucking Fruit Loops, or Fruity Pebbles, or Rice Krispies, or Trix or any other goddamn cereal, I'll fucking kill you."

Nightwing blinks at him, "You have some new, unhealthy, attachment to Cheerios now Jaybird? Or is there some other reason you're requesting one specific kind of cereal?"

Red Hood tenses. Crap. That question must have somehow hit on the reason Jason had kept their conversation going but since he wasn't the one to bring it up on his terms he'll probably bolt. Double crap.

"I find it makes excellent shrapnel in pipe bombs."

"Riiiight." Outright laughing at the ridiculousness of his excuse would be counterproductive. "I'll inform everyone to be on the lookout for Cheerio stuffed pipe bombs then."

"You do that," Red Hood sneered as he finally lowed his gun and returned it to its proper hiding place next to two others.

Now it was Red Hood's turn to turn his back on his brother as he took his leave.

Well, he would have taken his leave if Nightwing hadn't sprung forward with a pathetic, "Wait!" and a hand on his shoulder.

His bad shoulder.

Red Hood barely grunted at the touch but, being as well versed in body language as he was, Nightwing could tell it had hurt. A _lot_.

"Shit. Jason, you're hurt."

"Names, _Dick_," he hissed his brother's name both as a threat and a warning. "Comes with the job," he shrugged off the other's concern.

"Still, I'd feel better if you got it checked by a professional."

Red Hood snorts, "How do you know I haven't already?"

Nightwing's brow knits together, "Have you?"

"Yes." At seeing Nighwing's disbelieving look (not dampered the least bit by his mask) he decided to give the other man just enough extra info to shut him up. "She looked at it within a half hour of it happening. So stop your phony concern for my well being and go back to Bludhaven."

Before Nightwing could retort, Red Hood had jumped off the side of the building, shot off his grappling hook, and swung away.

It wouldn't be too hard to follow him if he really wanted to, but he knew his brother, and pushing anymore right now was a very bad idea. So instead he decided to stay and observe the warehouse Red Hood had been staking out. It might give him a clue as to what Jason was up to these days.

And he made a mental note to thank Leslie later. After all, what other 'her' could Red Hood possibly be referring to?

* * *

Jason was still in a pissy mood when he got home. Stupid annoying Dick and his big mouth. Never knew when to keep his damn mouth shut and just _shut the hell up_. Now he'd be stuck with Ryder for who knows how fucking long.

Che. Whatever. Not like he particularly _cared_ one way or the other.

He slid in through the kitchen window silently, planning to grab a glass of water before heading to bed since the beer was gone. Tch, should've just stopped at a bar.

He stopped short, however, at the sight of something new on the counter. It wasn't close enough to the blueprint for it to have mattered to Jason before, but now there were two colored dice sitting next to each other. In the same direction as the warehouse he had used as his vantage point. The one Dick had found him on.

"Fuck. Seriously?" Well, it was completely obvious _now_ that her dice represented people.

He had to be the red one, so that meant Nightwing was blue. And all the white ones must be goons on the inside. The numbers were fairly low, so he wouldn't have to deal with too much resistance, but it was still more muscle than a simple drug operation should have. Four at the entrance, five more scattered throughout the rest of the building, and three more in what looked was the main office.

He'd start working on a better plan than 'bust in, guns a blazing' after he got some rest; he was much too exhausted to think about this shit now.

Jason grabbed his glass of water and headed to the bedroom, glancing at the sleeping girl curled up on the couch as he passed.

Yeah, he could put up with her for another month or so when Nightwing would feel the need to track him down again.


	10. Warehouse

"Oh look, I have just enough for a chapter and it just happens to be Friday...must try and get this posted!"

School has started up and I've been busy with other things as well, so my free time for writing has dwindled. HOWEVER, I actually have most of the next chapter written up from before so there'll be an update next week (not sure what'll happen after that, but I'll make note of it before the story so you know what to expect in the future).

And thank you, everyone, for being patient with me and this story.

* * *

Jason had spent three days working on his great master plan to take out the operation based at the warehouse whenever he had free time. Between relocating, food runs, and patrol there wasn't a whole lot of leftover time that wasn't used for sleep. He still went and observed the place to see if he could learn anything useful, but between them never opening their doors when he was watching and Nightwing knowing this would be his next target, saw no reason to stay for an extended amount of time.

On the fourth day he felt ready to put his plan into action and got ready just like every other normal patrol night (except he might have grabbed an extra high powered firearm that tore through the human body like a cannonball). After all, it's always a good idea to have more fire power than the other guy. And explosives. Those were always fun to use.

He took one final look at the blueprint that had been set up at each new place they move to, and made note the dice layout was exactly the same as the first time it was set up, _except_ the three that were usually in the suspected main office were missing. Boss and two bodyguards? Maybe he should wait until they show up again and take the problem out at the source. But the past three nights Ryder's dice had shown three people popping up in the office some point during the night so they'd probably show up eventually. Plus he was ready and raring to go now (and Red Hood waited for no man).

Before he was trying to avoid going in with only 'guns a-blazing' as his plan; now that he had ample time to think about it, his plan was 'wait for the right moment and then go in guns a-blazing' (well, there was more to it than that, but that was the gist anyway).

Red Hood turned towards the window, ready to take his leave, only to have his way blocked by a girl in red. He blinked for a moment before walking around her, ruffling her hair as he went. "I'll see you tomorrow." And he was gone.

Jason had been trying to understand Ryder's "language" this past month and she was glad. But some of the most obvious things (in her mind anyway) got past him. The colored dice for one. And now he had completely ignored her 'full body block' (not that she had a whole lot of body to block with, _but still_).

Alright, fine, she'd just go to Plan B then...or Jason really would be 'gone'.

* * *

Step. Step. Pause. Slide to the left.

Ryder was empty-handed, there was no need to have her suitcase this time and she wouldn't need her dice.

Duck behind a crate. Wait. Slide to the right.

She completely ignored the commotion going on around her as she made her way forward. Often having to stop and wait or move to the side to get where she really wanted to be.

A very loud string of curses rose above the sound of gunfire and suddenly she had company. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here?!"

Ryder, of course, didn't answer him verbally. Instead she reached out and grabbed a belt loop on Red Hood's jeans. Tugging slightly, she turned towards the gaping hole in the side of the building (courtesy of one of Red Hood's explosives. He had wanted to start the night off with a bit of a bang).

He kept them behind crates as he shot at anything that moved. Trying to get back outside with the brat made him look like he was retreating and he _hated_ it.

A crackling static sound came from the ceiling high above them. "Ahhh~ Test, test, is this thing on?"

"Riddler!" Red Hood growls, instantly recognizing the criminal's voice. He tries to move further into the warehouse to find the bastard but is jerked to a stop by Ryder's hold on his pants.

"Of course it's on," he answers his own question, "this is just a recording dear Batman, so don't bother hunting me down~ You don't believe me, of course, but that's okay. Have a riddle while your futile search proves futile!" The recorded Riddler clears his throat before speaking again.

"More than I but less than You  
Mirror Mirror see me too  
I'm Good I'm Bad not really either  
Dead Alive I feel I'm neither. What am I?

"Oh, and Batman? You have ten seconds before this place is blown sky high! Good luck~"

The hired muscle fidget and cast their gaze around nervously. They didn't sign up to be blown up.

Ryder began to tug at Red Hood more frantically and the vigilante finally understood why she had come. He gathered her up in his arms and booked it. The lucky goons who were still alive copied his example and ran for the doors. Most wouldn't make it but Red Hood was determined he and Ryder would be two that would.

The explosion came a few seconds after they had cleared the building. The shock wave sent them flying not long after. Red Hood wrapped his arms around the kid tighter, being sure to protect her head. They rolled a few times and he kept them down until the last of the debris had settled.

The two of them got to their feet and Red Hood glared down at Ryder through the helmet. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

What did normal people do when kids did stupid things? Oh yeah, "You're grounded."

Though her expression stayed completely neutral he could have sworn her lip twitched upward into a half smile for the briefest moment. He dismissed it quickly though, probably just the light from the giant bonfire playing tricks on him.

* * *

So...I attempted a riddle. (It's kinda lame though...don't think anyone will figure it out [...or maybe it's so obvious everyone can see it...?] I kinda needed it to rhyme so at some point I just sorta stuck some random words together...ha...ha...*hides in a corner*). I've got a few more riddles planned and then I'll explain them all (because the other ones are even worse than this one...*sob*). But they do have a point! It might take several chapters for me to get to the point though...but there is one, I swear.


	11. Sidekick

**I'm about halfway through the next chapter so will hopefully have it done by next week.**

**And holy crap, did not realize this was so long when it was in my notebook; it's my longest chapter yet! Over 1500 words *grins like an idiot***

* * *

It had been about a week since Warehouse 22 blew up. Nightwing was convinced it was Red Hood's doing and made a bit of an extra effort to track him down. This brought him to some shady locations to gather information. It was in one such place he first heard the latest rumor that was spreading like wildfire through the underbelly of Gotham: Red Hood had a sidekick.

Huh. That was a new one. Wonder if Bruce knew about this yet? Well, maybe a visit was in order (and it had been a while since he saw Damian).

* * *

"Soooo..." Dick started after he had descended the hidden stairway and made his was towards where his adoptive father was. "Hear any good rumors from the criminal underground lately, Bruce?"

The man being addressed grunts in response, but doesn't tear his eyes away from whatever he was doing on the Bat-Computer.

"Anything," Dick presses, "regarding a rumor centered around the Red Hood, perhaps?"

_That_ finally gets a reaction out of the brooding man. "_What?_"

"Yeah. Just some rumor going around. Probably doesn't have a lick of truth to it so best to ignore it."

"_Dick._"

Whoops, that's the Batman voice, better not tease him _too_ much more.

"Well, I'm _just_ saying. Rumors tend to be lies and this one seems so farfetched that I-"

A Bat-glare cut him off. That was actually more terrifying with the cowl off.

"According to rumor, Red Hood has a sidekick."

"Age? Abilities?" he questions, not missing a beat.

"Wha-? Bruce! It's a _rumor_! There's multiple accounts of what happened-each one more ridiculous than the last! It's like a bad case of 'Telephone' really."

The Bat-glare had been reduced to a Bat-stare but it still demanded answers.

Sighing in resignation Dick repeated some of the things he had overheard. "A kid in red walked straight through a fire fight-not a scratch. A teenager came down on blood-red wings and caused all the criminals to cry. An 8-ft tall monster dyed it's skin with the blood of it's enemies. I mean _come on_! That's too crazy for even Gotham's standards."

"Hmmm."

"...don't tell me you actually _believe_ this crap?"

"More research needs to be done before anything can be said for certain. Robin will patrol with you tonight and tomorrow while I look into it."

* * *

"Tt. And _why_ has Father dumped you on me again, Grayson?" Damian asks as he laces up his boots.

"Cause he's off chasing an 8-ft tall indestructible phantom with wings."

The younger boy straightens up to look at Dick, arms crossed, clearly not amused. "Have you finally allowed your enemies to hit you in the head too many times? Because you are starting to sound just as ridiculous as you look."

Nightwing sighs. "Don't worry about it Dami," he ruffles the younger boy's hair who retaliates by viciously batting his hand away. "Your Father is hunting down a lead that he knows is a wild goose chase."

"Then _why_ is he wasting his time?" the young boy throws his cape on and adjusts it.

"Because 'all rumors start with a grain of truth,' Master Damian. Master Bruce just needs to see for himself what, exactly, that truth is," the elderly butler informs the youngest of the household.

"I highly doubt that 'truth' will be Jason hanging out with Bane," Nightwing grumbles.

"Todd has been keeping company with that monster?" Damian sneers as he puts on his final piece of his crime fighting outfit, his mask, finishing the transformation into Robin.

"It's a _rumor._ Doesn't anyone know 'rumor' is just another word for 'lies' anymore?" the man in the black and blue outfit says exasperated.

"Regardless, I hope they take each other out."

Nightwing sighs again. He needed a new family, all this sighing couldn't be good for his mental health.

* * *

Batman tracked Red Hood's movements as best he could, often relying on second- or third-hand accounts of his 'sightings' to try and triangulate his exact location. It was like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. The Bat smirked with pride, he had been trained well.

But the Dark Knight had a few tricks of his own and, by the time he called it a night, had a fairly educated guess where Red Hood would show up the following night.

And of course guesses by the Batman could be taken as fact.

* * *

"Red Hood," the deep Batman voice growls at the man standing on the other side of the rooftop he had tracked as a likely meeting point yesterday.

He knew Jason well enough that whenever he dealt with any members of the Bat Clan he would wait for the other to make the first move. And if that move was talking, he'd listen for how he was addressed and adjust form there. Real names were met with real names, so Batman made sure to avoid calling him Jason.

"Batman," Red Hood acknowledges. His hands were clenched around his guns but it didn't seem the Dark Knight had fighting at the top of his priorities for the night. Honestly, Red Hood had been expecting this, but had secretly hoped it would be Nightwing that would track him down after those stupid rumors started circulating and take Ryder off his hands. "Here about those rumors, I assume?"

"Yes."

A staring contest ensued for half a minute.

"I do _NOT_ have a sidekick. A lost puppy has attached itself to me and won't leave me be. She followed me one time and some stupid rumors started popping up."

Batman observed him silently, looking for any sign of deceit (which was harder than he'd care to admit with only body language to go on).

Nights in Gotham are hardly silent, so when three barely audible clinks sounded in quick succession most people would promptly dismiss it. But when Red Hood tensed, Batman paid closer attention. It came again and Red Hood rounded on the direction it came from because the actual source couldn't be seen.

"Oh my god. Ryder! Go home! You're still grounded!"

_-ckink-ching-clank-_

"Fine!" he turned back towards Batman. "Including tonight she's followed me three times. _Now_ will you go home?"

_-clink-clank-_

An aggravated growl that sounded a whole lot like "fucking shit" passed his lips. "Get over here then."

Batman watched in veiled curiosity as a child, smaller than Robin, made her way towards Red Hood. She wore a red hoodie; well, that explained why people thought she was Red Hood's sidekick.

"Batman, Ryder. Ryder, Batman," Red Hood introduced the two grudgingly.

The Bat observed the young girl with a critical eye as she took both hands out of the pockets of the red sweatshirt she was wearing and approached him. Her gaze remained downward, not once looking up. Once close enough she reached her hands out towards his own. Batman remained stoic but allowed her to take his hand (making sure to watch her for any telltale pick-pocketing moves). His eyebrows furrowed just the slightest bit as she smelled his gloves.

Batman knelt down, making sure to keep one eye on Red Hood, and spoke, "Hello Ryder, how old are you?"

Instead of answering his question Ryder just pressed her palms against his cheeks and stared directly into the whites of his cowl.

"...safe."

"Yes, _of course_ the fully grown man who dresses up as a bat every night is safe," Red Hood says sarcastically. "Can we go now?"

His request is met with a yawn from a certain little ten-year-old.

"Oh, uh-uh, hell no. You are _not_ falling asleep again you little brat. Should've just stayed home if you can't even stay awake. We have been _through_ this already; I am not your fucking personal taxi service!"

Batman watched in amusement as the girl made her way to Red Hood who scooped her up into his arms, bitching the whole time as she instantly fell asleep, seemingly without a care in the world.

Red Hood retreated to the edge of the roof, mumbling something about 'why'd she follow him tonight,' and 'his life wasn't even in danger this time' that Batman could barely hear, and jumped.

The Dark Knight considered following them, but just from this one encounter knew that little girl was a good influence on Jason. He didn't particularly like leaving a child in the care of a criminal but, honestly, orphanages in Gotham weren't much better. For now he would better monitor the rumors of Gotham's criminal side and keep an eye on the situation.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Nightwing asks before Batman had time to get out of the Batmobile.

"Yes Father, has Todd bitten the dust at last so the stain he has left on this family can finally be erased?"

Batman removes his cowl and sends a disapproving look towards his young son before turning his attention towards his eldest. "Fine," he answers Nightwing's previous question.

"...And?" the younger man prompts (more curious to know if there really was any truth to those rumors than he'd care to let on).

"...She's cute." And he left it at that.

* * *

**Damian was such fun to write~ So happy he finally got to make an appearance! :D**

**I feel the interaction between Batman and Red Hood was severely OOC, and for that I apologize. My original plan was for Ryder to meet Bruce later on at the manor, but this was much more fun.**


End file.
